Excitable Boy
by eric-idle-rules
Summary: Dean Ambrose, people say he's a little eccentric, an excitable boy. He doesn't know the meaning of the word love until the day Seth Rollins says hello to him. Based off the song Excitable Boy by Warren Zevon. Contains character death and rape. A unique love story between Dean Ambrose/Seth Rollins


Dean Ambrose, people say he's a little eccentric, an excitable boy. He scratches, he curses, he bites. He struggles in school, even with the simplest of subjects. Everyone knows it's because his parents were on drugs before, during and after his mother's pregnancy with him. Now his father is out of the picture, and his mother is still sticking needles in her arms and snorting things up her nose. Dean is neglected at home, shunned at school. People have heard stories about what he's done to people, that he's bit movie ushers, kicked doctors, spit at teachers.

He doesn't know the meaning of the word love.

Until the day Seth Rollins says hello to him. To be fair, he's been staring at Seth through his entire class since the first day of class three months ago. Seth and his pretty blonde and black hair that probably smells like fruity shampoo, his pretty brown eyes that look so big behind his thick rimmed glasses, his pretty smile with that little gap between his front teeth. Dean doesn't know proper social cues, so when he finds something he likes, it's all he can fixate on. And now all of his attention is fixated upon Seth.

It's hard for Seth to miss the fact that the weird kid in class won't stop looking at him. He's noticed, his friends have noticed and have been so kind as to point it out to him. So, he says hello to him. He says it like a question, like what he's really asking him is 'why the hell do you keep looking at me?'

But that's all it takes. The only people that will interact with Dean normally are teachers, teachers' aides, the guidance councilor and the principal. Never other students. So, when Seth says hello to him and he can see all his pretty features up close, can hear that voice saying something directed towards him, he falls in love.

Before it was just an obsession, but now it's grown beyond that.

Dean continues to stare every day. And Seth continues to say hi to him. And sometimes Dean says hi back.

Seth thinks it's weird. Dean doesn't know the meaning of weird, so he thinks nothing of it.

This goes on up to Christmas vacation. And then, when the students get back from Christmas vacation, Dean picks up where he left off. He stares. And Seth says hi to him. And he gets better about responding, too, always saying hello back now.

When May rolls around, Seth has gotten used to this little exchange. He still thinks it's creepy, but he does it anyway. Because he'd rather say hi and have Dean leave him alone than not say hi and end up with Dean as a stalker.

Only this time when Seth says hi, Dean says, "Hi. Are you going to prom?"

And all Seth can think is '_What?_' "Am I going to prom?" he repeats, and Dean nods, his messy curls flopping over his face. "Yeah. Are you?" he asks, because it's the polite thing to do.

Dean shrugs, then lifts a hand to his face, chewing at his thumbnail and the skin around his nail. "Dunno yet." Though he's pretty sure he's going to go. He's going to go and make Seth his date.

Dean can't afford a nice tux. He doesn't own a suit. But he knows that he can't show up wearing what he usually wears, torn jeans and stained t-shirts. So he takes what little he has and buys the cheapest off the rack suit he can find. It barely fits him, the arms and legs being a bit too short. But it's the best he can do on such short notice.

Between the ticket to prom and the suit, Dean has no money left to his name, but it's ok, because he's going to have Seth. Seth means more to him than money. Seth means more to him than his own family.

He puts on his suit the night of the prom, straightening out his tie in the blurred reflection of the medicine cabinet. All he has for shoes are his black sneakers and his socks are noticeable even when he's standing up because his waist is so small, but his legs are so long and the pants he bought never fit properly.

He has to go catch the bus, not having a car of his own. It won't drop him off right at the school, so he walks the rest of the way there. The timing is perfect, as he arrives with a mass of other people.

The other students and even some teachers give him strange looks, but he doesn't notice things like that. He doesn't care about people staring at him, he usually just stares right back.

Once he's inside the gym, he finds a nice dark corner and stands there, people watching. He watches as kids make their way off and on the dance floor, as people stop to get food, as they pair off in cute little couples and slow dance.

And then he finds Seth. He looks extra pretty in his suit and tie, his hair down, sitting just below his shoulders. God, his smile lights up the whole room, Dean notices, as he watches Seth interact with his friends.

After watching Seth for a solid forty-five minutes, Dean makes his move. He can't help the little upturn of his lips as he approaches Seth. "Hi," Dean greets. He's never actually spoken to Seth first.

"Hi," Seth replies, forcing a smile.

"You look really good," Dean tells him, raking his eyes up and down Seth's body. He's got on a red tie and a matching red carnation in his jacket pocket. The sleeves and pant legs fit him perfectly. His shoes are freshly shined. His hair even looks freshly bleached.

"Thanks," Seth says, not saying the same in return. Because, well, even though it looks like Dean attempted to comb his hair, at least, the suit isn't fitting right, his tie is crooked and he's wearing white socks with a black suit.

Dean's been hard for the last half hour. Just looking at Seth, thinking about him, knowing that he was, at some point in the night, going to talk to him, has him all riled up. And now he's right next to him. Damn. "Could I talk to you for a bit?" he asks, cocking his head slightly.

"Isn't that what we're doing?"

"Alone." He wastes no time in grabbing Seth's wrist and pulling him along with him.

Seth's friends hardly notice he's missing, having snuck in flasks of vodka to spike their drinks with, Seth having had a few of those mixed drinks himself. "What the hell?" Seth asks once they're out behind the school. He rubs at his wrist, Dean's grip deceptively strong.

Dean crowds into Seth's personal space, pushing his back up against the rough bricks. "You're so pretty," he says, fingers picking up the ends of Seth's dark hair, sniffing it. He smiles. "I knew your hair would smell fruity." He inhales again, eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the sweet scent. "Peaches."

Seth has never been so scared in his whole life. He tries to push Dean away, but he can't. All Dean's weight is on him, against him, holding him there.

And then Dean's lips are on his. Their noses clash together and Seth's head bangs hard against the wall behind him as he tries to get away. Dean rubs his forehead against Seth's, nuzzling him. "You taste good, too. How's everything about you so goddamn perfect?" Dean asks aloud.

He grabs Seth's tie, yanking it as he forces Seth to turn around.

"What are you doing?" Seth asks, though his voice is choked as the tie is pulled tight against his throat.

Dean doesn't answer, just yanks back harder on the tie with one hand as the other reaches around to Seth's front to undo his pants. He grows even harder at the choked noises coming from Seth's mouth as he tightens his grip on the tie and pulls Seth's pants down. "God, even your ass is pretty. How do you have a pretty ass?" he asks, again, aloud to himself.

The tears are falling down Seth's face now, knowing what's about to happen. He's been squirming, trying to get away, kick at Dean, but Dean's got tunnel vision and strength he never would have known. And now that he's in Dean's sights, he's not getting out of it.

"Dean, please don't," he tries to plead, the words coming out garbled sounding.

But Dean doesn't hear him. Or he does and he just doesn't care. Or he just likes hearing Seth's voice, no matter what's being said to him. "So pretty," Dean's muttering to himself over and over, between pressing kisses to the back of Seth's neck. "So pretty," he says as he undoes his own pants. "So pretty," he whispers as he forces himself inside of Seth's ass.

Seth tries to cry out, but the sound gets caught in his throat, Dean yanking back on the tie even harder. Every time he takes a breath, the tie gets tighter and tighter around his throat, each breath becoming more pained.

"Even your blood is pretty," Dean says. He's watched himself move in and out of Seth's body, fascinated. He had no idea this was what sex was like. He reaches down and runs a finger through the blood making its way down Seth's leg, bringing the finger to his lips to taste him. The blood is slicking him up, too, making each thrust in and out smoother.

He doesn't notice when Seth blacks out. Nor does he notice when Seth stops breathing completely. All he knows is that he can feel a tingling in the pit of his belly and that means he's going to come soon. He's going to come in Seth's pretty little ass. He yanks tight on the tie as his orgasm hits him, pushing Seth's lifeless body hard against the bricks of the building as his hips jerk and his body convulses.

Dean pulls out and tucks himself away, a happy smile on his face. He covers Seth back up, too, and turns him around. "You're coming home with me now," he tells him. He lifts Seth's arm up and around his shoulder, supporting all his weight. "That must have been really good for you," he says a bit after he starts walking, dragging Seth along with him, "if you can't even walk."

He has to get them to the bus stop, glad they didn't miss the last run of the night. The driver hardly looks at them, and there's only one other person on board, who's looking like they had one too many shots of heroin in the past twenty-four hours, totally numb to the world.

They ride the bus for a few minutes, Seth's body leaning against Dean's, Dean's arm tucked around his waist. He pushes the button when he notices his stop coming up next. He lifts Seth up and walks them off the bus and the few hundred feet to his house.

Dean's mother is passed out on the couch, TV on, empty bottles of booze surrounding her. He gets Seth up the stairs easily and gently lays him down on the bed. Dean strips out of his suit and pulls on some flannel PJ bottoms. "You're so pretty, Seth." He kneels on the bed, looking down at Seth's body. He runs a hand along his jaw, then tucks his long hair behind his ear. "Oh, Seth," he says. When he lies down himself, he pulls Seth close to him. "You're mine now, Seth. No one can take you from me." He presses a kiss to the cool skin of his neck, the same flesh that was once burning under his lips just mere hours before. "No one."

It's Sunday night when Dean's mother smells something rank. She doesn't know what it is, where it could be coming from. But it's bad. Normally she doesn't notice anything over the scent of her own body odor, so it must be putrid if she's smelling it. She follows the scent and finds that it's stronger upstairs than down.

She heads up the stairs and down to Dean's room. When she opens the door, she lets out a terrified scream. Her son is lying in bed with a _corpse_. She had seen on the news that there was a boy missing after prom and now… now she knows where he is. She backs out of the room, Dean's eyes confused at they look at her.

She's never made a phone call so quickly in her life. She calls 911, tells them that she doesn't know how it happened, but her son is with the missing boy with the two-toned hair.

There are emergency response vehicles dispatched to the house immediately. The cops drag Dean away, and Dean is fighting and screaming, because they can't take Seth away from him! They can't take him away from Seth! He even tries biting them, because he needs to be back with Seth, can't they understand that?

But they get him restrained. And they get him sedated.

He's sent to a mental institution for ten years.

He's put on medication, he's sent to therapy. Whenever he's asked, "What made you kill him?" he always answers, "Because I love him." Never loved, never past tense. Always present. He loves Seth.

And whenever someone counters with, "How can you rape and murder someone you love?" he just comes back with, "I couldn't let anyone take him from me."

Each day he spends in the institution, he thinks about Seth. He thinks about how it felt fucking him, at the school and later that night and the following morning in his own bed. He thinks about holding him in his arms as he slept, his blanket pulled up to try and warm Seth's cool body. He can still taste Seth's lips and the coppery tang of his blood.

He misses him every day. For ten years he asks to see Seth. They tell him he's dead. He tells them he doesn't care. Seth is his. He loves Seth and wants to see him.

He has nowhere to go when he's let out of the home. He was told of his mother's drug overdose and subsequential passing four years ago. He doesn't know if his father is even still alive, and if he is, he has no idea where to find him. So, he does what he can. Two weeks out of the home, he finds a little abandoned hut in the woods, probably for hunting, and hunkers down there.

And now that he has shelter, he can see Seth. It's all he's wanted the past ten years. And now he can make it happen. He walks through town with his head bowed, hoping no one will notice him as he makes his way to the cemetery. His search takes a while, but eventually he manages to find the Rollins headstone. He kneels down before it, placing two fingers over the engraved name, tracing each letter. S-E-T-H. "I miss you," he says. "I miss your pretty face, your pretty hair, your pretty body. I love you so much."

He sits before the grave for hours, repeatedly tracing those four letters, sometimes tracing the dates, of birth and death, but always going back to his name.

Eventually he has to leave, but he knows he's going back. He's going back and he's going to get Seth back.

The next time he visits the cemetery, he has a shovel. It's dark, but he has a flashlight he stole out of the same garage as the shovel.

And then he digs. He digs for hours. He digs until the moon is sitting low in the sky and the sun is threatening to break over the horizon. He digs until he hits the wooden casket. After that it's a scramble to clear off the dirt, to get the casket open and to get Seth's skeleton out.

Dean smiles so wide when he has Seth's bones in his hands. He rubs a long humerus bone over his cheek. "I knew you'd be pretty on the inside, too," he whispers, eyes closed as he feels the bone scrape over his flesh. But he knows that he needs to leave soon, so he sets Seth down and quickly shovels dirt back on the grave as best he can.

Now that the sun is up, he has to go. He gathers Seth up in his arms and heads into the woods, back to the little hut he now calls home. He's found blankets in dumpsters and stolen a few pillows here and there, so he at least has somewhere comfortable to go.

He's just had a long night and is ready to settle in and get some sleep. But before he does, he lies Seth out, much like the last time they spent the night together. He strokes Seth's jaw, kissing it gently.

He pulls several bones in close to his body, hugging them, cuddling up to them. "You'll always be mine, Seth. Always. No one can take you from me, ok?" He kisses Seth's jaw again. "You're safe with me."

He pulls a blanket over them, curled up with his cage of bones, and falls asleep more soundly than he has in the past ten years.


End file.
